


summertime

by ahhfic



Series: maybe [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, M/M, that all it is, this is just banter between these two idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-05-21
Packaged: 2020-03-09 06:24:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18911356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ahhfic/pseuds/ahhfic
Summary: Keith's hours at the general store are generally boring, always checking his watch every 15 minutes. Clock out time can't come fast enough. But every now and then a certain someone walks in and time is irrelevant.Or; a peak into Keith navigating through a crush on his most annoying friend.





	summertime

**Author's Note:**

> I literally dont know what this is. a cashier/costumer love story in the making trope? the beginnings of an unrequited love but not really trope? a 90's au? a summertime fic? they're also a part of some team? dont ask me what for yet, idk.
> 
> This is a snippet of that world i guess. I might write more if people want me to.
> 
> also first ever attempt at writing klance, pls be nice to me. this thing is probably riddled with mistakes.
> 
> oh, and for some reason lance is the only one that knows pidge.

If Keith was a betting man, he’d put 20 on the next person that walks through the entrance will be another grouchy old lady looking to stock up on the current sale item, which happens to be little snack cakes. He’s already had four today, all trying to buy more than 5 boxes. Which the little paper tacked on the stand clearly states is the limit. And then they get all huffy when Keith charges the extras at regular price, and then they either try to sweet talk him into bypassing the limit or have him take off those extra boxes. And then after they leave, Keith has to put the cakes back on the shelf, and Keith is just done with it all. At least for the rest of today. 

But the next person that enters is all too familiar, that he doesn’t even have to see his face, just his tacky sandals as he walks in to know who it is. Before said person looks up from their flip phone, Keith is dunking under the counter. All attempts at interacting with this human has left Keith either dreading or impatiently waiting of future ones. Their dynamic is a weird one. Friends but ones that argue more often than not. Keith’s problem is that most times he says stupid shit that either gets him weirded out stares or they look like they want to punch him in the face. And this person has given him both along with many other looks. It’s a very expressive face.

And admittedly a handsome one too.

And that there is the issue. Because he’s also incredibly annoying.

Keith can’t fathom how he can simultaneously be attracted to someone and also want to chuck him off a cliff sometimes.  
“Keithy, my man! Where’s today’s newspaper? They ain’t out front.”

Keith closes his eyes for a minute and braces himself for all that is Lance McClain. Keith remembers a time when they used to be hostile towards each other. Couldn’t be in the same room without yelling at the other for something. Back in high school, they had a rivalry. Lance always tried to one up him and Keith could never say no to a challenge. Keith won most times and that only fueled Lance’s hostility towards him. They were younger then and immature. They’re still young, in their early 20’s, and maybe still a little immature, but they’re better now. Lance can handle a loss at whatever game their playing on team night now without giving Keith stink eyes. Unless there is money on the table, then it’s high school all over again and Hunk has to jokingly give them both popsicles to cool their tempers. 

“That’s because we keep it inside.” He points to the rack by the door. Lance turns back and grabs one and walks over to the counter and plops it down. “You’re supposed to pay for that first,” Keith mutters and crosses his arms over his chest.

Lance ignores him and skips straight to the classifieds. “I gotta look for another job. Last one busted.”

“Again?” Keith snorts.

Lance pauses and looks up at him, his head ticking to the side, this thing he does when he feels insulted. “Need I remind you, you only have this job because your brother owns the store. If you had to do what I do and deal with managers with a stick up their ass, you wouldn’t last a day.” Lance finishes with a triumphant smirk, clearly satisfied with his burn. Keith takes in stride, used to their banter by now.

He looks good. Tan darker, he must’ve been at the community pool recently then. Hair a little longer than normal, his bangs shade his eyes as his head leans down over the newspaper. Summer’s always looked good on him.

“And how long did this last one last?” 

Lance blinks and goes back to the newspaper. “Three hours.” 

“Ha! See, you’re no better.”

“But It wasn’t my fault. That Pidgeon sabotaged me!”

Keith laughs, “Who?” An afterthought, “And how?”

“Pidge from our class. She works there and told me I could put dish soap in the dish washer and it’ll be alright. And then next thing you know, suds were everywhere on the ground and then the manager literally spat on me as he shoved me out the back door.”

“You dumbass,” Keith says fondly and can’t help grinning. “How did you not know you don’t put dish soap in a dish washer? It’s common sense.” Keith looks down at the newspaper, trying to spot any job openings Lance could apply for.

Lance circles one for a dog walking organization. And wouldn’t that be a site, Lance being pulled along by dogs on a sidewalk. “You sure you got enough muscle to handle such a task?” What can Keith say, he likes to rib him just as much as Lance does him. 

Lance huffs and rolls his eyes. “Well, I didn’t grow up with one of those fancy machines. My sisters and I had to do it with our grubby little hands until my younger sisters took over that chore. And for your FYI, I’m strong enough I could probably bench 150.” 

Keith cant hold back laughing at that statement. “Probably? You don’t know?”

Lance heavily inhales through his nose, “I’m sorry, not all of us spend our free time in a gym like you, you gym-rat.”

Keith snatches the newspaper up, “Give me that.” His eyes skim over the job offers. “Here. Apply for this place,” Keith picks up a pen and circles an ad.

“The Snow Cone Station? But that is all the way on the other side of town.”

“Exactly,” Keith breathes.

Lance makes an aborted noise. “Well, if that’s how you really feel.” Lance snatches his newspaper and steps back, offended. He sticks his nose up and starts heading for the door. “I’ll be on my way then.”

Keith steps out from behind the counter and follows him to the door. “I’m kidding. Lance, I’m kidding.”

But Lance always follows through with his dramatics, so he crosses his arms and harrumphs his way out the door. Keith isn’t too worried. Lance always comes back.

Once Lance leaves, Keith exhales and braces his arms on the counter, feeling like he has forgot something. He stands up straight, narrowing his eyes at the cash register. Lance forgot to pay for his damn newspaper. 

Keith being the good person he is, pulls out his wallet and puts a dollar in the register for it.


End file.
